New Start

I know it’s been a while since I have posted…lol. I am starting new. Perhaps this will kickstart my creative juices. I am shelving the manuscript in progress temporarily and starting on something brand new. 🙂 Now I just have to contend with the normal “How do I start?” I think I will be ok once it gets going. I am very excited about this idea that I have. I think this may even give me renewed spark for the one in progress as well. 🙂

I’ve got my music cued up. I need to get something to munch on. For some reason, writing makes me hungry…lol.For some reason though, blogging just isn’t getting it right now, so this is going to be a bit short. Going to get my finger foods and get to work! 🙂

Brainsucker is Bloated

So I have been working on this novel for almost a year now. I had to pretty much start over on it about six months ago because my hard drive fried and me, being a dumbass, didn’t back it up. Ever since then it’s been really hard for me to get back into it. I have been struggling with it.

So anyhow. I keep hearing that once you start a novel you should stick with it. Not to mention, I am the type of person (not to mention writer) that it’s really hard for me to start something and then not finish it. My brain is swirling. The rational side of my brain keeps saying, “how can you do a good job on this novel when you are thinking about another one?” But the perfectionist side is saying, “You need to finish what you started.”

As I type this, I am talking to a very special person in my life and she shed some light on this for me. She reminded me that I have to go where the inspiration is. The partial novel has grown stale. Perhaps if I worked on something else, I can come back to this one with fresh eyes and it will turn out better. 🙂 Seriously…how well will I write if it’s just not coming. I don’t like reading something that seems forced.

So with that said…I have developed another problem. Not as big as the first one, but still a problem none the less. Where do I put this idea? What novel do I work on where this one will fit perfectly? Oh! I have like 25 sticky notes all over my desktop with book ideas jotted down…lol.

I have also come to another decision. I am the type of person who absolutely hates labels. I know that books need to be put into genres, but my brain gets so hung up on the genre that it gets in the way of my writing. I LOVE horror and want to be a “horror writer”, but I can’t let myself get hung up on the genre while I am writing. I think that’s one thing that causes my muse to run away so often…lol

So anyhow. I guess that’s about it….lol

Tis the Season….to Scare

I love Halloween. The crisp air. The bursting colors. Pulling your hoodie tighter around you. Is it because the chill finds its way in or because there’s something else in the night? Perhaps it’s because there’s something in the shadows watching you, waiting to pounce and tear your flesh from your bones. But you just tell yourself that it’s just the chill in the air….

Contrary to the above paragraph, I find it difficult to write horror. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE horror. I LOVE looking for the shadows that don’t belong. But how do you write something when very little scares you? It’s not the demons and creatures that hide in the darkest corners of the night that scare me. It’s the thing hiding in the shadows waiting to drag me off at knife point as I leave work before I get to my car. It’s the guy following me home at 10 o’clock at night. It’s the man hiding outside the window of a five-year old, fantasizing. It’s the incompetent politician calling for war on false pretenses. All of those things can really happen….it has and will again. Reality scares me.

I am drawn to the serial killer in the hockey mask brandishing a machete who never seems to die no matter how many times you shoot him. I am intrigued by the burnt pedophile wearing a clawed glove invading teenagers’ dreams. These things can’t happen, but they don’t scare me. I know they scare a lot of people, but I am not one of them.

It’s very odd to admit that I am a horror write who doesn’t scare easily. As authors we need to write what we know. As horror authors we need to write what scares us. How do you incite fear when not much scares you? Want to know what REALLY scares me? Zombies. Zombies wake me up at night, in sweat drenched sheets, and prevent me from falling asleep for hours. Zombies make sure I don’t sleep for days and even weeks afterward. But I can’t write about zombies. Why? Because I can’t do the “research” needed to do the genre justice.

So what do I do? I write about what scares other people. I understand the fear. I understand the mechanics of fear. This allows me to tap into that part of the psyche that allows me to write horror without being scared by it. Don’t get me wrong….some of the things that I write DOES scare me. I am terrified of drains….which makes showers and washing dishes interesting to say the least. This was the inspiration for The Drain.

My sense of humor is out there. It’s morbid. I think I scare people, just by being me. My coworkers have grown to understand my sense of humor. And even find most it funny…lol. Though some people do look at me and cross to the other side of the room….I don’t mind it. That just means I did my job successfully. 😉 I like to make people wonder. I’m odd that way.

Well. I guess it’s time to turn in. Bob (the homeless guy handcuffed to my radiator) needs water and his bowl changed. I do hope he doesn’t make too much noise tonight. Though I think the duct tape and cattle prod taught him a lesson last night….

Disclaimer: I really don’t have someone chained to my radiator. They are too weak…easily pulled away from the wall. I have an eye hook anchored to a concrete wall that he’s shackled to…

Lost Muse. Reward

I do believe I need to send out a search party for my muse. He’s probably been muse-napped and chained to someone else’s furnace deep in the dark, damp basement. I need to get a stronger chain. My muse has been missing for a while. I’m surprised I can even blog. I roam the dark halls of my mind, searching, but finding nothing but pieces and parts. I come across various body parts that I am assuming the demons that inhabit the darkest corners of my mind have failed to dispose of. The deeper I go, the more the stench penetrates my nostrils. I am afraid he is no longer here. I scan the body parts for anything that looks familiar. Nothing does. Although, I don’t know how familiar a foot or a finger would be. Luckily I haven’t seen any wing remnants. Funny thing is, I don’t have the traditional religious beliefs. I am more of an old world tradition kinda gal. Anyhow….my muse is male. First “OMG” moment. 😉 (For those of you who know me…you will understand that) Then there’s the lack of clothing…just enough to cover the needed parts. At least he’s PG. Well, perhaps PG-13. Anyhow…the biggest “OMG” moment are the wings. He’s got a huge wingspan. I suppose my muse comes to me as a man because if it were a scantily dressed woman it would be too much of a distraction.

Anyhow….back to the search. I haven’t found any feathers or pieces. So I suppose that’s a good sign. No. Someone has muse-napped him. I will have to find a more secure chain and lock. Perhaps chain him to the front of my brain and not the dark corner. At least that way I can keep an eye on him.

I need to find myself a secondary muse. Perhaps some cute little brunette with piercing blue eyes. and dimples when she smiles. Hhhmmm…..I think that would be too much of a distraction.

Anyhow. I have so many thoughts in my head of story ideas. I have sticky notes all over my laptop. I believe sticky notes are my wallpaper now.

My current manuscript keeps arguing with me about leaning more toward horror. It wants to be young adult-ish, but I don’t want it to go there. Perhaps it’s more adult than what it seems. Anyhow. It’s going slowly still. I’m only on page 77 and I need it to be longer. I need it to be longer than my first book and that was 216 pages. I was trying to shoot for 300….ugh! That’s a long way off. And my muse has gone missing!

I have run into some issues with it. I want to let someone read it to try to figure it out, but I don’t like people to read works in progress. I need to take a walk to figure it all out. I wish I had a recorder so I could dictate notes as I walk. Wish in one hand and shit in the other….yadda yadda. Anyhow. I need to clear my head. Perhaps then I will find my muse. Hopefully not too late.

Ok. So it’s late and I have a long day tomorrow. I will keep you all updated on my search for my muse. If anyone spots him in the mean time, send him home…

Love, Life and Things That Go Bump in the Night

Don’t ask about the title….I have no idea. Anyhow. Another of my short stories got published this past Sunday. Take a look if you dare….The Drain

The trip to Maryland went well. Got to see my aunt, my grandma, a couple of my second cousins, and my first cousin. It was a regular family reunion! It was good. The drive…not so much.

Writing is going slow. I need to pick it up, because I have a crapton of ideas roaming through my head that are just begging to be released. I don’t know though. To be honest, I like keep them chained in the dark corner. They get fed three times a day, can get to a bucket to pee in. They have everything they need. I don’t know why they are pissing and moaning so loudly. If they keep it up, I will need to smack ’em around a bit to keep them quiet.

Work is going well. Thinking about putting Subway in my next short story. My next short is kind of a sci-fi horror. I have been writing on it for a while. Actually, it’s a story I wrote waaaay back when I was sixteen. Funny story actually. Several months ago, I asked my mom if she had a desk that she wasn’t using. Something I could use when I write. We went up to the attic to see what was hanging out up there and there it was. My mom’s old desk that I used when I was in school. I had my step father help me to bring it down stairs and I cleaned it up. There were some things in the drawers, old papers and all. Some of the things in there were my step brother’s and step sister’s, but I came across a manilla folder. I opened it and there, nestled amid school-time poetry, was a 12 page story I wrote in high school.

Now, please understand, I had been thinking about this story off and on for the last five years, so finding this small piece of treasure was quite shocking. What did finding it tell me? That it was time to rewrite it. So that’s what I am doing. I am rewriting the story. Bringing it up to date. I think the readers will say “wtf?” if I leave the “walkman” in there. I need to change it to something more current. 😉

Life is in a bit of a turmoil for me at the moment. I am at a crossroads. Not necessarily with what I want to do with my life, because I already know what I want to do with my life. No. The crossroads is more of a spiritual crossroads. More of an emotional crossroads. I am thinking more about the state of the world. How we, as a society, are focusing on insignificant things. I know. I know. What is insignificant is quite relative. But, seriously, worried about what other people are doing, not doing, saying, not saying, etc. Where does that really get us? Nowhere. It gets us nowhere. Let’s focus on bettering our own lives.

Why is that such a “bad” thing to say? Why is that such a “selfish” thing to say? Don’t we always say “You have to love yourself in order to love others”? We aren’t loving ourselves and we are making others around us miserable. Why do we have to get the best because our neighbor has it. Why are we so worried about one upping those around us? This is why we, as a society, are so miserable. Because we have to much. And we look down at those who don’t have what we have. When did possessions determine our place in the world?

If you focus on your own marriage, then you won’t have time to focus on mine (or lack there of). If you focus on being happy within yourself, then you wouldn’t have to worry about my happiness. Because what it all boils down to is this….nothing and no one can make me happy but me. Are you so miserable in your life that you have to “one up me” by making me miserable as well? How did we get there??

We escaped England because of persecution. Yup. Mainly religious, but that created ripples….it also involved moral persecution, emotional persecution and, yes, even physical persecution. So what are we doing now a few hundred years later? We are going out of our way to persecute each other….for the same damn things! When are we going to stop? We are only going to stop when we destroy everything and everyone around us. But we aren’t going to see it. We will blame it on everyone but ourselves. We will even blame it on whatever higher power we put our faith in. In reality….WE did it. WE destroyed everything around us, but we are too egotistical to see it. And THAT, my friends, is the real tragedy.

Wake up and stop all the hatred. Stop the accusing. Start loving yourself so you can love others around you.